Chapter Sixty-Seven: You Really Are Slow

Jiang Province, the Zhou Family.

Lin Yi sat calmly in the grand hall of the Zhou residence. The bodies had long since been removed, and even the traces of blood were thoroughly cleaned away. If not for the oppressive silence that lingered, no one would ever imagine that the Zhou family, one of the ten great clans, had been annihilated within such a short span.

“Teacher, the news has been released. Tonight, will you…” Wang Yang asked cautiously.

Lin Yi’s gaze and tone were serene. “Hmm. Some matters began because of me; it’s time to bring them to an end.”

There was no trace of emotion in his words—neither joy nor anger, sorrow nor pleasure. Wang Yang shivered. He had followed Lin Yi for a long time and knew that this time, his teacher was truly angry.

Cui Cheng and Master Long had consecutively wiped out two great families, more than sixty people in all, including several half-step grandmasters and innate martial artists. Such carnage would set the martial strength of Jiang Province back by at least a decade.

“Cui Cheng, we’ve been rivals for years. Perhaps tonight, it will all be settled,” Wang Yang mused, gazing into the distance.

Midnight.

Footsteps suddenly sounded at the entrance to the Zhou estate. The visitors were none other than Master Long in his black robes, accompanied by Cui Cheng.

“To think the one who killed Master Wu was Lin Yi, that young upstart,” Cui Cheng said, outwardly angry but inwardly delighted. If Lin Yi had only kept hiding, that would have been fine, but he had brought trouble upon himself. Did he truly believe he could defeat Master Long?

Just recalling Master Long’s terrifying methods made Cui Cheng tremble. Master Long said nothing, merely swept his arm. A cloud of black mist shot from his sleeve. In less than five seconds, the gates of the Zhou family were completely corroded away by the black mist.

Master Long entered first, Cui Cheng followed. Meanwhile, spies stationed by other nearby factions instantly relayed the news back to their clans.

Jiang Province stood on the brink of a storm.

…

Wang Yang’s gaze was fixed on the hall’s entrance. When he saw two shadows approaching, he spoke urgently, “Teacher, I think they’ve arrived.”

“I know,” Lin Yi replied. He did not rise, nor did he make any move. He simply sat there, calmly sipping his tea.

Wang Yang quickly composed himself, standing silently at Lin Yi’s side like a dutiful servant.

Master Long’s steps seemed slow, yet each stride covered an impossible distance, as if he were shrinking the ground beneath him. Soon, Master Long reached the Zhou family’s hall.

“Master Long, that’s Lin Yi—the coward who refused to accept your challenge,” Cui Cheng said, his eyes filled with hatred as he glared at Lin Yi. This wretched brat had cost him tens of millions and utterly destroyed his reputation.

Puffing up with arrogance, he continued, “Lin Yi, if you kneel now and kowtow to me a few times, I might plead with Master Long to spare you some pain.”

“Annoying,” Lin Yi said, glancing at Cui Cheng. With a flick of his finger, a golden beam of light shot forth.

Crack.

Before Cui Cheng could react, a fist-sized wound was pierced through his forehead by the golden light, instantly snuffing out his life. Even in death, his face still bore that arrogant expression.

Master Long’s eyes narrowed; the golden light’s speed had been too fast—he hadn’t even had time to react.

“Impressive. No wonder you could kill my disciple,” Master Long said coldly, staring at Lin Yi.

His disciple had not inherited everything, but had mastered seventy percent. For years, he had roamed the country, relying on such skills to escape even half-step grandmasters with ease. Yet now, he hadn’t even managed a final cry for help. Clearly, Lin Yi was truly formidable.

But Master Long was not afraid. To him, martial arts were merely crude tricks, hardly worth notice. Even if Lin Yi were a grandmaster, he felt confident he could suppress him within three moves.

Lin Yi smiled lightly at Master Long’s words. “You overestimate your disciple. Like you, he merely dabbled in trivial tricks, unable to unleash even a thousandth of their true power.”

---

Master Long’s gaze chilled, regarding Lin Yi as if he were already dead.

“Very well. Since you speak so, let me show you just how powerful these ‘trivial tricks’ truly are.”

As he spoke, Master Long’s body grew dim, and then, before their eyes, vanished completely.

Wang Yang stared in shock, frantically searching the room, but found no trace—not even a sound or hint of presence. It was as if Master Long had silently vanished. Yet Wang Yang knew he was still there.

Sure enough, the next moment, a dagger gleaming with cold light stabbed fiercely at Lin Yi’s head.

Lin Yi, unhurried, raised his palm to meet the dagger.

A flicker of disdain crossed Master Long’s eyes. The dagger was laced with potent poison; any ordinary person, even from ten meters away, would be nauseated by its fumes. Lin Yi, using his bare hand, must surely be courting death.

However—

Clang.

The collision of Lin Yi’s palm and the dagger produced a metallic ring, sparks flying. Master Long felt his arm sink, the dagger snapped clean in two.

“How is this possible!” Master Long cried out in horror, his body once more growing dim.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lin Yi said quietly, reaching forward to seize Master Long by the collar.

“Damn it,” Master Long cursed, black mist surging from his body toward Lin Yi. Seizing the moment, Master Long shed his black robe and retreated swiftly.

He had intended to toy with Lin Yi, savoring his fear. Unexpectedly, Lin Yi’s strength was overwhelming; a single palm strike nearly reversed his blood flow.

Master Long retreated to the hall’s entrance. Instead of fleeing, he grabbed a pitch-black gourd from his waist.

“Come forth,” Master Long commanded. Wisps of black vapor streamed from the gourd’s mouth, enveloping him in an eerie, terrifying aura.

Whoosh, whoosh.

One by one, black dots emerged from the gourd, dropping to the floor and morphing instantly into human-shaped shadows.

The eerie sight made Wang Yang back away in terror.

“Oh, shadow techniques?” Lin Yi observed. Shadow techniques were a rather unique cultivation method. Their peculiarity lay in the ability to silently merge with a person’s shadow, allowing the caster to control them.

Some powerful practitioners could use these shadows to slowly infiltrate a major power.

“You recognize shadow techniques? Not bad. But unfortunately, you’re about to die—and your body will become my puppet,” Master Long sneered. The shadows lunged at Lin Yi and Wang Yang.

Wang Yang tensed, ready to fight.

Flash.

A black shadow darted toward him; Wang Yang punched it hard, dispersing the shadow with relief—he thought it nothing special.

But he quickly realized his mistake.

The dispersed shadow reformed instantly, and before he could react, it slipped into his own shadow.

“My body…” Wang Yang was horrified. His mind remained alert, but his body was utterly unresponsive, like a marionette.

Lin Yi was surrounded by more than a dozen shadows, yet remained utterly calm, his gaze as placid as water.

“Coincidentally, I too know some shadow techniques,” Lin Yi remarked. His own shadow split into more than ten fragments.

---

In the blink of an eye, Lin Yi’s shadows devoured all of Master Long’s black shadows.

As the last cultivator on Earth, Lin Yi had lived alone for over a millennium. In his idle years, he had mastered every immortal art he could find—including not only orthodox techniques, but even the forbidden arts. Still, he held contempt for evil methods, which prioritized rapid advancement at the cost of one’s foundation.

After destroying the black shadows, Lin Yi purged the shadow from Wang Yang’s body.

Master Long’s expression grew dark. He had not expected Lin Yi to possess such uncanny skills, nor that Lin Yi’s shadows would be so much more substantial than his own.

“This brat isn’t just a martial expert—he’s cultivated the Dao as well,” Master Long thought rapidly, already considering retreat.

He declared coldly, “Kid, I’ll let you off this time. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

His true strength was not in these sinister arts, but in geomantic arrays. He had arrived in haste, barely prepared, expecting an easy victory. Instead, he was met with this unforeseen turn.

Having spoken, Master Long fled, each stride spanning dozens of meters. In a few steps, he reached the Zhou family gate.

But to his horror, a figure stood there waiting.

It was Lin Yi.

“You’re really quite slow,” Lin Yi said calmly.

“How is this possible!” Master Long retreated two steps in succession. Lin Yi, arriving after him, was already at the gate—and he hadn’t even sensed Lin Yi’s movements.

It was terrifying.

Lin Yi spoke, “Your greatest mistake was coming to Jiang Province.”

Master Long retorted, “So you think my disciple died for nothing?”

“He deserved his fate. Enough—time to send you on your way.”

Lin Yi’s figure blurred and he appeared before Master Long.

Despite his age, Master Long was a seasoned veteran, already anticipating Lin Yi’s attack. As Lin Yi approached, he opened his mouth, sending a flash of cold light toward Lin Yi’s eyes.

This was his last trump card—a needle-shaped talisman, able to kill invisibly and with incredible speed.

Lin Yi caught the needle between two fingers.

Snap.

A squeeze, and the needle snapped in two.

Master Long’s pupils contracted. He pleaded desperately, “Don’t kill me! I’ll be your servant!”

No one wishes to die.

Though he was nearly a hundred years old, as a master of the occult, his lifespan could reach two hundred years. By that measure, he was merely middle-aged.

Lin Yi said nothing, simply raised a finger and pointed at Master Long’s brow.

Immediately, Master Long felt his body burning.

“The Lifespan Array!”

He knew this forbidden array well—he had often used it on others, never expecting it to be used on himself.

Within seconds, a master of the occult perished.

Lin Yi turned to Wang Yang, who had followed closely behind. “Clean up here. Jiang Province is too weak. It seems I must foster some grandmasters.”

After speaking, Lin Yi left without another word.

Wang Yang gazed reverently at Lin Yi’s departing figure.

…

Lin Yi did not return directly to Lan City, but wandered throughout Jiang Province.

Though the city at night was silent, it revealed a certain beauty.

Lin Yi savored this tranquil moment.